


what goes unsaid

by bubblepaintx



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, Kyoutani Kentarou Swears, Kyoutani is a softie, M/M, Short One Shot, Yahaba is bad with emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27856909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblepaintx/pseuds/bubblepaintx
Summary: “I put myself out there, and this is what I get?” Kyoutani’s hands hang limp by his sides. “Fuck that, Yahaba.” Yahaba’s name slips out with a disappointed sigh, and Yahaba feels his stomach curl in despair.“Wait, no—“But Kyoutani’s already turning away from him, readjusting his backpack with a rough jerk. “Stop playing with me, Yahaba.”Yahaba wants to scream at him, that he’s wrong, and the last thing he wants to do is play around, but the words climb up his throat and seize there, refusing to come out.
Relationships: Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Comments: 19
Kudos: 209





	what goes unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> this was a super quick, unplanned piece. There is no proper setting lmao

“You,” Yahaba growls, oozing menace from his glare, fists clenching at his side, “drive me absolutely insane.”

Any softer person would have shrunken away at the intensity of Yahaba’s anger, but Kyoutani merely narrows his eyes a fraction of an inch and twists his mouth. “As if,” his eyes flicker away from Yahaba briefly, “you don’t do the exact same thing to me? What the hell.” 

The fight drains out of Yahaba, and he just shakes his head in defeat. “I don’t know what to do.” His hands come up, desperately wanting to form some sort of gesture but, they’re lost—much like how Yahaba was feeling. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He continues, voice cracking slightly. His own emotions clash in a cacophony of voices in his heart, and for the life of him, Yahaba can’t seem to separate his fears from his desires. 

“I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know how you feel.”

Kyoutani puffs out an angered breath, eyebrows pinching. “So that’s it? You’re leaving it up to me?” He steps back, a shadow of betrayal crossing his features. 

“I put myself out there, and this is what I get?” Kyoutani’s hands hang limp by his sides. “Fuck that, Yahaba.” Yahaba’s name slips out with a disappointed sigh, and Yahaba feels his stomach curl in despair. 

“Wait, no—“

But Kyoutani’s already turning away from him, readjusting his backpack with a rough jerk. “Stop playing with me, Yahaba.” 

Yahaba wants to scream at him, that he’s wrong, and the last thing he wants to do is play around, but the words climb up his throat and seize there, refusing to come out. 

Kyoutani had paused to hear his answer, but at Yahaba’s deafening silence, his shoulders pinch and he strides away, pausing to kick a volleyball into the wall on his way out.

Yahaba flings his palms into his own cheeks with a vindictive smack, cursing himself. “Why am I like this? Why can’t I just say it?” 

He likes Kyoutani. He knows he does, but every goddamn time he even starts to think of saying the words out loud, a crippling fear drowns everything else out. 

What if he doesn’t like me?

Yahaba knows that it’s stupid. Kyoutani was the first to approach him, all gruff and awkward, requesting Yahaba set for him over and over at practice until the two had fallen into a steady rhythm. Kyoutani was the first to ask for his number, and Yahaba still remembers that day with vivid clarity: Kyoutani’s pink ears, the scowl on his face as Yahaba grinned at him, the gruff murmur of his phone number, which Yahaba had now memorized by heart. 

What if I lose him?

A new voice, growing in volume and urgency, appears in the forefront of Yahaba’s thoughts. 

No. What if I just did? 

Yahaba doesn’t think he’s ever experienced panic like the kind that swells over him at that thought, his heart kicking into overdrive within seconds. 

No. 

Just like that, he’s fumbling for his bag and he’s running, because he may be a coward that would rather shave his head than confess first but none of that matters if Kyoutani has given up. 

Yahaba prays under the loud galloping of his heart that Kyoutani hadn’t gone far in the few minutes it had taken him to think of this. 

“Ken—“ He tried to call out, but the name dies in his throat when he nearly runs into the man himself. 

Kyoutani stares at him in shock, and Yahaba gapes back. What is he still doing here? Didn’t he leave way earlier? 

“I couldn’t just leave— fuck,” Kyoutani breathes and runs an agitated hand through his hair. “Fuck, are you crying?”

Yahaba reaches a hand up to his cheeks mutely, to discover that it indeed came away with a watery sheen coating his fingers. “Oh.”

“I didn’t mean to— I, Yahaba...” Kyoutani isn’t making any sense but Yahaba understands him perfectly.

He remembers why he had gone in search of Kyoutani, and the panic is back in full force. “Kyouta— Kentarou.” Kyoutani’s eyes flood with shock at his given name. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry, shit, I’m so stupid and—“ Yahaba tells himself to get a grip. “I’m not playing with you, I swear, I,” He risks a glance at Kyoutani’s face, but can see nothing but wide eyes and a slack jaw. 

“Look, I...” Yahaba opens his mouth to say it, but his voice dies out. “I—holy shit, why can’t I just SAY IT?” His pitch is getting louder and higher, but Yahaba can’t think past the fact that he wants to say it but he can’t, and he wishes he was less afraid. 

“Hey, hey. You’re okay.” Kyoutani’s gruff voice cuts through the chaos of Yahaba’s mind, and Yahaba grasps at it like a lifeline. 

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just get so terrified and I can’t— I can’t do it.” Yahaba can feel the tears all too well now, as they stream uncontrollably down his face. 

Kyoutani makes an anguished noise and reaches out, catching Yahaba off guard as he pulls him into his chest. “Shut up. Shut up, you idiot, you were never supposed to cry. I never wanted to make you cry.”

Yahaba can’t stop the fountain streaming from his eyes but he manages to hiccup a plea, “Please, just don’t— don’t quit, okay, I swear, I’m— this isn’t a joke to me.” 

Kyoutani just hugs him tighter and buries his nose in Yahaba’s hair. “Just, shut up, calm down. I’m not going to fucking ditch you, god, I couldn’t... even if I wanted to.”

Yahaba nods, silently, because at this point his words had failed him and damn himself they screwed this up again. 

“And— I,” Kyoutani sighed, “I’ll just— I’ll make all the first moves, and I’ll confess first, but you— don’t leave me in the dark.”

Yahaba nods again, mentally kicking himself. 

“Fuck, Yahaba, I didn’t even know whether you hated me or liked me; you were always so hot and cold,”

“I know, I know, I’m sorr—“ Yahaba manages to mumble, guilt seeping through his pores. 

Kyoutani cuts him off. “Yahaba Shigeru.” Yahaba freezes, holding his breath. 

“I like you.” Kyoutani’s confession is awkward, and sounds more like an insult than a confession, but it’s perfect and it makes Yahaba feel like he’s on cloud mine. 

“...though sometimes I really wonder why because you’re such a prick sometimes—“

“I would shut up if I were you,” Yahaba interjects, a stupid smile on his face as he pulls back from Kyoutani’s crushing embrace. 

Kyoutani is as red as a tomato, and it calms Yahaba a little to see that he’s not the only one affected. 

He makes a split second decision then. Instead of saying the words back, Yahaba takes a tiny step closer, wraps his head gently around the back of Kyoutani’s neck, and leans in to kiss him. And Yahaba finally experiences the warmth of what it feels like to drown out the voices in his head and let his heart speak for once.

**Author's Note:**

> 30k on YouTube! Channel is Bubble Paint :) and I mostly write text stories! Just dabbling in fics for now...


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